


goin' round the world, i got to find my girl

by enoughofabastard



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Claire Novak has Daddy Issues, Claire Novak in the Men of Letters Bunker, Depression, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Internalized Homophobia, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Episode: s15e20 Carry On
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:07:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28396632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enoughofabastard/pseuds/enoughofabastard
Summary: After the events of the series finale, Claire attempts to reach out to the Winchesters. As a result, Claire must grieve for herself and others, and work through every emotion and issue she would attempt to bottle up.Mature for language.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 5





	1. no time for spreadin' roots

Jesus fucking Christ, vampires should not be this hard to kill. Wait wait, if angels are real, is Jesus too? Holy fuck, Focus Claire! 

She narrowly dodged the bloodsucker’s next lunge at her. She needed to be more careful, Jodie would have her head if she got killed on the job.

Scrambling for the blade that was previously knocked from her hands, Claire was able to cut off the head of the last vampire. There has got to be a better way to do that. Fucking blood everywhere. It felt like the prom scene in Carrie. This was going to be a bitch-and-a-half to clean up. There were three vampires in the nest that she killed. However, she couldn't be sure that there weren't more that would be coming back soon. Her heart ached a little bit thinking about the possibility of assistance: Jody.

She really, really, missed Jody. The police officer had become as close to a mom to her since- 

Hurt struck through her again at the thought of Amelia. The memory of her soft, caring touches that turned rare, cold, and then absent all together. But she had regained that warmth, in the form of Jody, and even Alex. 

Claire began the process of preparing the nest for a burning while continuing down this road of thought. Jody cared for her, took care of her, and that, that helped make everything hurt a little less. Jody was family, and along with it came Alex, her foster sister she supposed. She really did love Alex, even though she did resent her in some ways. Even though she never wanted that Cheerleader Popular Girl Life, the fact that Alex was able to have that, even after all she's been through. Well, it made Claire feel a little inadequate. Why wasn't she able to do that? What was wrong with her? But she could do one thing: hunting. Speaking of which, she finished up preparing and grabbed the lighter from her jacket. 

After her father left, and her mother soon after, she was thrown into the foster system. Those years had been rough. Full of anger, fear, and sadness. Though, those things haven't gone away, but hunting dulled those feelings. It was an outlet for her. It made her feel useful, and powerful. She felt a sense of control over the world when hunting. For so long it felt like the world, and the powers above were in control of every influence around her. Hunting gave her her own path and choice. It's why she gave so much push-back when Jody detested her practice. 

She lit the nest, watching the flames dance in a race to reach every corner. 

Claire really could use some sort of help. Someone to be her equal, help her, and for emotional support. Jody is too much like her mom to be considered her equal. Alex could never be a hunter, and every other hunter she rarely met on the job was usually some pig-headed, backward man. Hardly the kind of person you could work with. The idea was still nice though, a partner. Maybe like Sam and Dean. 

It had been a while since she'd seen the boys. She didn't like to think of them though, for a multitude of reasons. First, the thought of them led her to the still stinging wound that was the loss of Kaia. She immediately pushed those thoughts deep down as tears began to gather around her eyes. Taking a deep breath, she continued, now making her way back to her motel. 

Secondly, Dean. 

Dean Winchester seems like everything she wanted. He's an extremely skilled hunter, has a brother, hell- family, with him. The part she really wanted of his though, was Castiel. She didn't have much of a whole idea of Dean and Castiel's friendship, but she wanted it. Even though, Castiel is not Jimmy Novak and not her father, he still cared. Sure it hurt like hell just looking at him, but he's familiar, and he cares. Claire still even has that stupid cat plushie he got for her. It's some of the rare evidence she has that someone, someone cares. She really did miss them all, even if she gave ‘em hell each time she saw them. 

Pulling into the motel parking lot, Claire suddenly came out of her haze. One of those moments where you were so stuck in your head you’re amazed you came back out without causing some sort of incident. 

It had been a long time since she’d seen them. Maybe she should just see if they are in Lebanon? It’s only a couple hours away, and right now she could use the security. 

Grimacing at the quickly drying blood on her clothing, Claire quickly stripped, searched for injuries, and showered while further contemplating a visit. 

Making up her mind, she opened her phone and searched for the Winchester name. 

She hesitates, what if they wouldn’t want her there? 

Ultimately, her desire to receive some sort of comfort won, and she sent a quick text to Dean:

“hey, are you guys in lebanon right now?”

Dean’s been known to respond pretty quick, evident by their past quick conversation, mostly consisting of Claire asking for hunting advice. 

With a vague sense of relief, Claire packed her bags, and went to sleep, fully expecting a response in the morning. 

☾

Claire woke with a start, dreams plagued with last night’s vampires being the one to extinguish her. She rolled over to check her phone:

7:58 AM. No new texts. 

Well that's concerning. Hell, maybe Dean got a little caught up on a hunt. 

She doesn’t have Sam or Castiel’s number though, she always meant to, but the necessity of it never came up. 

In an attempt to smooth the concern in her brow, Claire sent off another, follow up, text:

“hey, are you okay?” Send. 

… 

It didn’t help soothe her. 

Worry buzzed beneath her skin. She didn’t know if she could just let it be. 

Looking at her phone, she decided to try and call him. 

Straight to voicemail. 

She could ask Jody to try and contact him, but she’s busy right now, and didn’t want to bother or worry her. 

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. 

Exhaling slowly, she shook her head, grabbed her bags, and got in the car. 

Kansas isn’t too far. Hell, maybe she’d calm down by the time she got there, or Dean would finally respond to her. 

Checking her phone again, her nerves still haven’t calmed. With fumbling fingers, Claire put Lebanon, Kansas into her GPS, and pulled out of the parking lot. 

She began her journey with one final little pray, a plea: 'please be okay'.


	2. autumn moon lights my way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire arrives at the Men of Letters Bunker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I completely forgot about this fic until recently. If you are actually interested in this fic, firstly, thank you, means a lot to me. Secondly, I'm sorry because updates can not be guaranteed to be frequent or regular. I just started my second semester at school and am super busy with that.  
> Again, thank you for reading, any feedback would be greatly appreciated!! :))))

It’s times like these that Claire seriously reconsidered being a hunter. It wasn’t the blood, gore, death, not even the shitty motel rooms and lack of paycheck. No, the long fucking car rides were what got to her. 

By now you’d think that she would have acclimated to such long drives, but without good music, it un-fucking-bearable. 

Her iPod had bit the dust a while back to some bastard werewolves. Now all she had were some boomer-rock cassettes in her glovebox. She didn’t even have a cassette player in her car. How they came to be in her car remained a mystery yet. 

Regardless, no matter how mind numbing this particular trip has been, she let out a sigh of relief as she crossed the border into Kansas. 

Claire was going to pass the fuck out once she could. The trip, combined with the stress over concern for the middle aged dickwads she cared for and her most recent hunt, resulted in complete exhaustion. 

Now the Angel with a shotgun had left Claire with the coordinates to the bunker before, but she had no idea what to look out for. Was this going to be like a small house? A literal hole in the ground? 

So, imagine when her surprise when the massive structure that was the Men of Letters’ bunker appeared in her field of vision, and imagine the shock when the GPS announced she had reached her destination. 

“Holy shit.” She let out in a rushed breath. As she exited the car, she looked around. The large, impressive concrete walls loomed over her, barely hidden by the lush forest surrounding it. 

The slam of her car door jolted her back into her conscious mind. 

Fuck, this is kinda weird and scary. 

She also noted that the impala was absent. 

A handful of what ifs swam through her mind. 

The obvious entrance was forboarding, but Claire pursued it anyways. The leaves and sticks of the forest floor crunched beneath her boots, almost drowned out by her racing heart. 

Her heart raced even faster as she placed her hand on the door. A shock pulsed up her arm, she chalked it up to nerves. She took a death breath and pulled.

The door silently mocked her with its complete stillness. 

She pushed, pulled, and twisted in every direction. 

Well, can’t say that was unexpected. Of course it’s locked. 

After surveying it for any clue of how to open it, she huffed in annoyance. It’s the little things that just really make her tired. Claire rolled her eyes, “The geriatrics better be here.” This was not how she imagined this would go. 

She was supposed to come her, enter the bunker, lightly bully the Winchesters for not knowing how to work a fucking phone, maybe work a case with them, and leave. Now. Now, Claire’s mind was racing in competition with her heart. 

Next she tried banging on the door as hard as she could, making quite the commotion if the scampering of a nearby squirrel was any indicator.

God those fuckers were so going to grill her for this. But the humiliation caved under her fear. 

She stopped her effort in favor of searching for other ways in. 

Trepidation marked her steps as fear of the forest now ran alongside her other anxieties. She never did well with bugs or large, predatory animals, even when she was technically armed. 

In the distance she spotted another door on the side of the building. 

Even though it was also probably locked, she decided to attempt it anyways. She didn’t come this far for nothing. 

This time, when she went to twist, pull, and push with all her might, the door gave in with ease. 

Her welcome into the bunker was much more like being shoved into a dark closet, which brought up unpleasant memories of some of the worse foster homes she had the misfortune of staying at. 

Claire quickly brushed away those thoughts in favor of getting a hold of her cell phone. When she turned on the flashlight, she had to fight the urge to turn around and bolt out of there. 

It was a dark hallway littered with shadows from her flashlight, with a series of closed doors on each side. No dead bodies or monsters waiting for her, but creepy as fuck none the less. 

Ignoring the hairs standing up on the back of her neck in protest, she moved forward until she reached what seemed to be maybe a dining room? She investigated further. No, it couldn’t be, the table was actually a large map. 

In search of other clues, Claire scanned her surroundings with the light from her phone. After spotting a set of stairs, she set out in search of the front door that she initially encountered. 

Ah ha! A light switch.

The sound of the lights turning on made her flinch, but it transitioned into a gentle hum that filled the now lit bunker. 

Jesus, this place was kind of fancy. As far as bunkers go, it’s not what Claire was envisioning. 

Everything seemed to be in order though, no dishes left out, no personal belongings, nothing. But it was still clean, there wasn’t a thick layer of dust over everything, like someone had definitely been here at some point in time in the last year. 

She turned to open the front door, peaking to make sure her car was still there. 

Guess it’s time to explore, not much else to do. 

As she made her way around, she made a few mental notes. One, the kitchen had some new appliances, but no food in it. Two, holy fuck do they have a huge library. 

As she entered said library, her eye caught something on one of the tables. After a quick glance over the rest, she looked upon the scratches on the table. 

“D.W., S.W., M.W., Jack, and Castiel.” She muttered as her fingers traced over it. 

Huh, who the hell is “M.W.”? Oh shit, wait, that must be their mom. Sam had said he had been able to meet her. 

Jack, on the other hand, she had heard about through Jody. Some kid who was a nephilim? She couldn’t recall much else about him. 

Claire left the library with intentions to come back with a more detailed eye. For now, she just wanted to cover as much ground as possible. 

Since it was now safe to assume they were all just on a hunt, Claire relaxed a bit as she made her way into the hallway she initially came in. 

Each room was quite strange, most of them storage. Except for the first bedroom she came upon. 

There was a full size bed, made, with blue sheets. Completely void of any personal effects. Drawers empty. 

The next she came along was small, with a twin bed. Again the bed was made, but this one had more stuff in it. Firstly, there was clothing. All too small to be Sam or Dean’s, and Castiel, of course, didn’t really change clothes. 

This must be Jack’s room. 

She felt weird looking deeper now that she knew this was a complete stranger’s room. But she couldn’t help but look at someone of the things Jack had displayed. 

A few photos, all with familiar faces sans who she assumed was Jack and also this one woman. She didn’t look like she was related to Sam or Dean. She was pregnant in the photo, and smiling. The photo with this woman was a little more frayed around the edges, suggesting Jack had frequently handled it. 

Maybe she was his sister or wife, maybe someone he lost. The photo quality was too good for it to be that old, removing the possibility of it being his mother. She delicately put it back in respect.

She moved on. 

Next room had a full size bed, made, but crumpled in spots suggesting someone sat on it after they made it. The room was void of clothes, but did have lots of personal items.

Something in her chest twisted in longing as she realized, this is probably Castiel’s room. 

All of the photos were of the 4 boys, but a few more with just Dean or Jack. Her favorite being one of Dean and Castiel wearing cowboy hats somewhere in the desert. She quickly laughed and snapped a photo of it to save on her phone. 

The room also had a few other personal items. Primarily, books, a lot of books, mostly about nature. Also, on the bedside table, there was an old walkman of all things. 

Quickly navigating the buttons, the cassette was released. It was labeled “Deans top 13 Zepp TRA XX”. 

After surveying it a little more, she put it back. This time when she left the room, she left the door open too, so she knew which one it was when she came back. 

The last door in the hallway was slightly ajar, and the process of elimination suggested this was probably Dean’s room. 

The first thing she noticed when she entered the room was how much of a mess it was. Clothes strewn everywhere, the desk had papers and beer bottles all over, and the bed completely unmade. It also had what seemed to be some type of animal hair on it? Unless Dean was light blond and shed frequently. 

There were a few posters on the wall, mostly just of old bands that her dad used to listen to when he would enter Bob the Builder Mode and fix something in the house. He would have her hold the flashlight and she would watch him fight some screw that wouldn’t come loose. 

She shook away the thought, but the sorrow lingered as she continued to survey the room. 

Looking around, Claire noticed a lot of similarities with Dean’s room and her own that she had at Jody’s. Both had knives in random, probably dangerous places, band posters, and general chaos. Aside from every kind of media in his room being old as fuck, she liked it, felt the most welcoming to her compared to the other bedrooms. 

Speaking of which, now she was certain which was Sam’s room. What the fuck was up with that? It looked like no one had ever lived there. Did the brothers have some kind of falling out? Or maybe Sam got out, who knows. 

She left the room, leaving the door open as it was. 

Well, if they are on a hunt, then she’d have to wait for them to come back. 

From her own hunting experience, Claire estimated that they would be back anywhere from two days to two weeks, depending on when they left and the type of case. 

Either way, Claire is still going to be here for a minute, so she might as well get comfortable. 

As she exited Dean’s room, she noticed one more door. Even though she knew it was probably another storage room or just completely empty, she opened the door. 

Oh fuck that. 

It was a dark stairwell that presumably led to the basement of the bunker. 

Scary as fuck. 

Claire has seen and done a lot scarier, but bad fucking vibes from that. So, she closed the door and left it for another day, preferably when it isn’t night time. Even though time wasn’t really a thing in the bunker due to the lack of windows, Claire’s stomach let her know that the sun had already set. 

For now, she would eat some of the snacks she had in her car from her trip, but tomorrow she’d go out and get some food for the bare kitchen. 

When she came back inside the bunker, snacks and bag in hand, she came to the conclusion she didn’t know where to sleep. 

“Well Goldilocks, whose bed shall we sleep in?” she said to herself. 

Sam’s room felt really fucking werid to be in, even though it was the least occupied. She wouldn’t feel right sleeping in Jack’s room, she didn’t even know him. Dean’s room was frankly, a little gross, and she didn’t trust he was the type to regularly clean his sheets. That left Casitel’s room. 

At least she knew the sheets wouldn’t be too dirty since he didn’t sleep, that was a bonus. And since he was walking around in her father’s dead body, she figured he couldn’t get mad at her for sleeping in his bed. 

Decision made, Claire made her way to Castiel’s room; at least the bed was fairly comfortable. Eventually, Claire succumbed to her heavy eyes, and slept soundly.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is my first work. Thank you for making it to the bottom. I know this is likely a huge mess, I'm still trying to get my ideas organized. I may or may not continue this, this was just a way for me to get the words out of my head.  
> If I do continue this, I do intend to have a Claire and Kaia relationship form, and background implied Dean and Cas relationship (but never actually shown, just referenced). Any feedback would be appreciated!


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